iAm Not Freddie Taylor
by iKatnissStarkWestoftheFlock
Summary: When Freddie is tired of Carly rejecting him, his obsessive mother and Sam's insults, he wishes for a better life. Suddenly his wish comes true. But is the perfect life he has really all that perfect? Is it his new life...Or someone else's rejected life?
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

**_iAm Not Freddie Taylor_**

**_Disclaimer: Own nothing._**

* * *

Freddie didn't want to remember how he ended up sulking on his bed at 4 in the afternoon, his pillow pressed against his face, blocking out any noises of happiness heard outside of his window, or the screaming of his mother, begging for him to take an unnessecary vaccination shot, his whole body curled up and seeing nothing but the dark.

He wanted to forget how he ended up like this. Unfortunately, along with Freddie's intelligence, he doesn't forget so easily. He rarely forgets to study or do something he was supposed to. He had good memory. This was a problem for what he just experienced.

He didn't know when it all started. But it was probably when his mother went to school, begging to take the vaccination shot.

Then she started telling every one about the 'back' rule.

_"Don't stand like that, young man!" Mrs Benson yelled, to a young boy across the hall, and everyone's attention turned to her, "You won't get respect if your back's not erect!"_

And that pretty much summed up for Freddie it was gonna be a horrible day at school. Everyone in school who saw him standing repeated the phrase in a mimicky way.

Or maybe it was when he asked Carly out again. But today was special.

_"So, Freddie, why are all the lights still out and why're we here?" Carly asked him._

_"Well, I have something to tell you and Sam, she's gonna meet us. And T-Bo said the electricity is pretty messed up right now. He'll get it done soon." Freddie lied. In truth, Sam had no idea they were here, and there was little chance she'd come to the Groovy Smoothie. _

_The fact that they were at their favorite hangout, with no lights and romantic candles around giving little glimmers of light, no smoothie blender so they were forced to eat fancy restaurant food curtesy of T-Bo and they were all alone was clever planning of Freddie._

_He'd ask T-Bo to help him. So T-Bo 'closed' the Groovy Smoothie for no one else to come, allowed Freddie to put candles and he took out the electricity and Freddie paid for restaurant food to be brought._

_"This food's really good." Carly said, "But it's been an hour and Sam's not here. Could you just tell me what's so important? I'll just tell her."_

_"...Actually, Carls, Sam isn't coming." Freddie told her. He was so excited, waiting for this moment. She had to say yes, she had to!_

_"What do you mean?" Carly asked, confused._

_"Well...How long have we been friends?" he asked her._

_"3, 4 years..." she said, but in a confused way. 'Why is he asking me this?' she thought to herself._

_"And...I know I've grown kind of an obsessive crush on you. And sure, we all thought it was just a schoolboy crush...But how can a simple crush still be there after so many years?" he started. _

_Carly was speechless for a while. She was shocked, obviously. Though her mouth wasn't so much opened in shock, her eyes were unusually wide. "All I know is, I have a stronger feeling for you then you think. It's not an obsessive crush. At least, it isn't anymore..." _

_Throughout the whole ordeal, Carly was begging to herself this wasn't real. This was different. Freddie meant it this time. He was serious, and he meant business. But as he went on his speech on how he was truly in love with Carly...Carly couldn't bare the fact she had to break his heart._

_"Freddie...You have to realize there's never going to be anything between us...I don't...love you that way." she said slowly, with tears in her eyes, remembering how she hurt Freddie so many times, but this was the one which he'd remember forever._

Or maybe it was after that...

_Freddie just walked out of the Groovy Smoothie calmly, heartbroken, leaving a sad Carly in there. He didn't know how to react._

_She really, truly, didn't love him the way he loved her. Even when he knew he meant it from the very bottom of his heart, she still said no. He looked back, and saw Carly wiping a tear from her eyes._

_'Why are you crying?' he thought, 'The love of your life didn't just reject you...' he told himself. Then all of a sudden, all he wanted to do was to run away, far from her, far from the heartache, althewhile knowing the heartache's always gonna be there. _

_His eyes got watery, and he turned around, ready to make a great escape, then bumped into..._

_"Jeez, dork, wanna watch where you're going?" Sam snapped, but then she took a good look in Freddie's eyes, noticing the tears. Sam sighed, but in what way? Annoyance? Pity? Sadness? Either way, it didn't make Freddie feel good..._

_"It's never gonna stop...You know that." she said, slowly, "Carly will never love you." she repeated._

_In Sam's eyes, the more he knows it, the more he'll be over it, so she was doing him a favor, and saying it as gently as she possibly can. But to Freddie, Sam was kicking him when he was already down._

_"Leave me alone, Sam! Don't you have something better to do than ruin someone's day?" he snapped at her. Sam wasn't feeling any sorry for Freddie anymore, oh no. The sadness for a friend expression she had on her face suddenly turned to anger._

_"Oh, so **I **ruin your day? Did I just decided to go after the stupid desicsion of loving someone who'll never love me back? Did I just do the stupid desicsion of making her a big, fancy, candlelit dinner with a romantic athmosphere when I knew perfectly that athmosphere wasn't gonna last after the dinner? Oh, yeah, you know T-Bo talks! And lastly, did I turn you down and broke your heart when you asked me out?" she snapped back at him, "No, all I did all these years was try and warn you to save yourself from this stupid heartbreak you know is coming but you just won't listen! So don't pin the blame on me!" she yelled, before leaving, shoving her shoulder against his and turning back._

He didn't know when it started. Did it start when his annoying mother humiliated him? Did it start when Carly Shay turned him down? Or did it stat when Sam Puckett confused him?

He didn't know how.

All he knew was as soon as it turned dark, as he ran out to the fire escape that day, he looked up in the starry, starry night. The stars were there to brighten up the dark and gloomy night...Freddie didn't know if he had any stars in his night. His eyes wandered. To the bright lights of buildings, to the tiny cars below, to the people walking on the streets, then, as he turned his eyes to his Converse, he saw a big, long, round item beside them.

Figuring someone had left it, Freddie picked it up. There was no brand, or anything. The round item was golden, and shaped like a spyglass and had the initials 'FT' on them. On the very top of the thing, or rather, the 'head' of the 'spyglass', it was crystal. Freddie turned it, and saw the crystal opened, revealing...chalk inside of them?

There were 2 colors only. One black, one white. The white one was small, barely 2 inches. He looked up the fire escape, and noticed, when he closed the windows together, whoever 'FT' was, he had drew a drawing on the window.

A drawing of a door. Not very detailed, either. Just a plain, ol' drawing of a door, its lines uneaven and drawn outside of the 'door', with another square on top, which, Freddie thinks, was meant to be a window in the door. This 'FT' boy or girl was not an artist. Ooh, Lewbert was NOT going to like this.

He sighed, putting the spyglass in his pocket, and kept looking at the nighttime sky. As he looked, he saw a shooting star. Or maybe it was an airplane.

But he didn't complain. For now, he'll just pretend that airplane is a shooting star, and made his wish. He closed his eyes, tilted his head, as if he was speaking to the heavens, and said:

"I wish for a better life. No, wait...I don't just wish for a better life. I wish for a normal mom, Carly who loves me and Sam who doesn't insult me all the time...I wish...I-I wish...my life was perfect."

He laid back on his chair, and fell asleep outside that night.

What he didn't notice, of course, was that the window behind him became a brick wall. The suddenly, the drawing glowed, and slowly...White wood appeared on the drawing, as if a real door started forming by itself.

As the wood of the door was finish, the golden doorknob appeared, and the window drawn on the door became a real window.

This might be how Freddie had gotten his wish. But...Sometimes, he'll learn the hard way, it's best not to wish for certain things. They might be great for you, but they might also hurt the ones you love.


	2. Chapter 2: The Confusion

**_iAm Not Freddie Taylor_**

* * *

I woke up and I wasn't in the best mood. I was actually tired, and practically begging for more sleep. I wanted to, but then I remembered school. I had to get moving. Sighing, I stood up, took a bath and got dressed. But before I did, I looked out the window and kinda sat on the window sill, looking outside.

It's kinda of a routine I did for the first few minutes, just for thinking. The sun was shining. So of course, today was going to be unbearable. At least, it's gonna be when I see Carly and Sam. One of them I can't get myself to look at and one of them who was trying to help but whom I pushed away. I felt like a jerk, but Sam had to understand I was upset, right?

Maybe not. This day was going to be torture. Just another day as Fredward Benson, tech producer of iCarly, _just friends _with Carly Shay, rival of Sam Puckett, and a geek no one liked. This is how it's always going to be...I should just face facts, I'm not a cool jock who gets anything he wants when he wants it. It was fraustrating most of the time.

I walked numbly in the kitchen, expecting the smell of organic tea, egg whites and meatless bacon...Don't ask me how can my mom find such a thing. But no. Oddly enough, when I got there, I smelled pancakes...None-vegetarian ones, with omelettes...and bacon with meat. A normal breakfast.

Except...this type of thing was not normal, at least not with me.

"Hey, honey!" my mom smiled. Wait...was she my mom? She had her face, and her voice but she didn't have the same dress and hair. Her dress was actually pretty un-mom like. More like a teenager's. She was wearing a white shirt, a jean jacket, jeans and sneakers. And her hair was longer. "Eat up, Carly's gonna be here soon! And bring your PearPad 2 to school, you have the AV club meeting and I want you to show off the new PearPad with camera. "

"'Carly'? PearPad with camera?" I repeated. Why would Carly be here? I never see Carly before breakfast. Then again I never saw my mom like this. Okay, but the PearPad with camera? Rumors are only celebrities could get stuff like that since they cost so much. How'd I get it? And mom would never buy me a PearPad! She's afraid I'd clutch it so tight it would explode. "Uh, mom...?" I asked awkwardly.

For some reason, calling her 'mom' felt weird to me.

"Yes, sweetie?" she asked as she poured orange juice in my glass. Orange juice, and not wheatgrass...

"Why are you dressing like a teenager?" I asked.

"...Honey, if this is your way of telling me I look young, then thank you!" she smiled, "But eat up."

"No, where's your sweater?" I asked. Her face scrunched up, "Sweater? It's only spring!" she said disgustedly. I never saw her doing that face. Most of the time, she tried keeping her poise and grace to move 'lady-like'-ly. But now it was if she wasn't even taught how to eat properly.

"Okay, well..what's up with the food?" I asked, pointing my palms at my plate. She looked at the food first, then at me.

"Well, it's bacon. And omelette. And it's breakfast. Freddie, what's gotten into you?" she asked. I opened my mouth a bit. What did she mean 'what gotten into me'? Wait...cool mom, normal breakfast, Carly coming over...

Was this a dream?

Probably. And if it wasn't, I sure as heck was enjoying it. So okay. Real or not, I shrugged it off and ate my breakfast. I was relieved to see that it wasn't poison though. It seemed awfully real to be a dream.

Then I heard someone knock. Mom gave me an 'I-told-you-so' look then opened the door. Carly...Like Mom said. But why was she here? She looked normal. She had the same smile, wearing the same clothes. The thin scarf, the maroon red long sleeve, the miniskirt and the boots. Same wavy, raven hair. She looked the same, maybe she could tell me why Mom was acting so weird.

"Hello, Carly." Mom smiled. That's weird again. Mom was never really nice to Carly. Or any girl that hung out with me.

"Hello. Hey, Freddie!" she smiled, then she walked over and kissed me...right on the lips. "Ready to go?"

I sucked in my lips, and my eyes were wide. What just happened? Why did she kiss me? Was this about yesterday? Some sick joke? "Why'd you kiss me?"

"Haha, funny, Freddie, I'm your girlfriend." she said, putting her arms around my neck, "Duh."

"...Wha-?" before I could finish my sentence, Carly pulled me, and grabbed my backpack, which was on the ground, "We'll be on our way to school." she said to my mom.

"Sure, Carly, bye! And take care of my boy!" she smiled.

Okay, I probably should have thought straight instead of staying with a doofy look in my face. But a cool mom and Carly dating me. I don't know how it happened, but I liked it, okay! I'm a teenage boy, everyone knows we can't think straight when a pretty girl holds our hands. But then, Carly said something weird.

"Bye, Mrs Taylor!" she smiled as she waved at her.

'Mrs Taylor?'

_**.:Seddie:.**_

We walked to school, and I was fully convinced this was a dream. Carly clinged to my arm just like I always dreamed and we were talking about random subjects. But that 'Mrs Taylor' thing stayed in my mind. I'm pretty sure Carly's not dumb enough to forget my last name. So as Carly kept on talking about her A, and asked me what I thought about it, I immediately changed the subject.

"Why'd you call my mom 'Mrs Taylor'?" I asked suddenly.

Carly looked puzzled and smiled, "Is this a trick question?" she asked, then she saw my serious face, "What else would I call your mother?"

"I don't know, how about 'Mrs Benson'?" I said sarcastically.

"Benson? Why? Your last name's Taylor, not Benson." she giggled, "This is so weird. You're weird today, Freddie."

"Wait...My name is 'Freddie Taylor'?" I repeated, "No, I'm Freddie Benson."

"Uh, no you're not. You're Freddie Taylor, you've always been. Wow, first you forget me being your girlfriend then your last name. I hope you didn't forget a lot of things lately." Carly said, showing, no not motherly or sisterly concern as she usually does, but the kind of concern you'd have for someone you loved. And it confused me a bit.

"...Oh, you know what? It must have been that, uh, basketball yesterday. Some kid hit me with a ball accidentally." I lied. I was probably one of the worst liars in the world. I used to be worst than Spencer but hanging out with Sam has its ups and downs. Not sure where 'learning how to lie' fits in there.

"Aw, poor baby." she said, then she kissed my forehead, "Better?"

Of course. It didn't matter how bad of a liar you are, Carly Shay was one of the naive ones that will believe you, because of a good heart. I smiled and nodded. Again, I probably looked like a loser in love doing that, but it seemed like Carly didn't mind, it was as if she'd been in love with me regardless of what I'd say.

And when I went to school, everything was just as perfect. Though I don't know how it did.

The first thing that happened when I came to school, everyone hooted and screamed my name. Even a bunch of fangirls. And boys...Disturbing as it was, I actually liked the fact that everyone was so excited just because I went inside the school.

"Hey, Freddie!" Chad Stark, most popular boy in school, said, "What's up?"

"...You're talking to me? Last time you talked to me, you shoved me in a locker." I reminded him. Chad looked confused, and so did Carly, "Dude, why would I put _you _in a locker? I look up to you, man!"

"Thanks, Chad, but Freddie needs his space." Carly reminded him politely.

"Oh, right! Sorry, Freddie, dude, it uh, won't happen again, I swear!" he insisted. This was weird. Chad Stark looked up to _me_? And that's not all. When he left, the fangirls came.

_"Marry me, Freddie!"_

_"I love you, Freddie!"_

_"Go out with me, Freddie!"_

"Sorry, girls, he's taken." Carly smirked at the fangirls, who some even started crying.

_"Noooo!"_

Wow.

Then I turned to Carly, "Why is Chad Stark lookin' up to me an why do I have fangirls?" I asked, and I turned my head around, _'Not that I'm complaining..._'

"You're the most popular guy in school, why wouldn't Chad look up to you? Everyone looks up to you, Freddie. I guess you probably don't remember, but you're like the king of Ridgeway." Carly explained, extending her arm and pointing at the student body, all of them smiling with glee at me. I smiled back. This was pretty cool...Oh, who am I kidding? THIS WAS AWESOME!

"So, does that make you the queen of Ridgeway?" I asked her. She blushed and smiled, "Only if you want me to be."

Then she kissed me, but a lot better than that peck on the lips this morning. More passionate, I'd say. I could hear everyone in the backround go 'ooh!' and some fangirls screaming bloody murder. It couldn't get any better than this. 'King' of Ridgeway, Carly's my girlfriend, my mom's not a freak...Dream or not, I was enjoying this new life of mine. I'm beginning to think that 'Freddie Taylor''s life was way better than Freddie Benson's. But when Carly kissed me, I couldn't help but have one image in my head.

_"Hate you..." I smiled jokingly, hoping she would understand what I really meant by that._

_She chuckled, "I hate you too." then she left. I wasn't really sure if she understood what I truly meant by I hate you._

"Carly?" I asked, stopping the kiss. Normally, I'd continue, but the image was stuck in my head. And with this 'dream' or new life, I wondered where she fit in to all this, "Where's Sam?"

Then Carly's arms weren't around my neck anymore, and she gaved me a confused look.

"Who's Sam?" she asked me.


	3. Chapter 3: The Change

**_iAm Not Freddie Taylor_**

**_AN: Confused you had the alert for a third chapter twice? Yeah, I know xP BUT ccQTccQT pointed out a MAJOR flaw that I can't have. Congrats for having a good eye and thanks for telling me!_**

"W-Who's Sam? Sam's your best friend! How can you forget her? She's...Sam!" I reminded her. But Carly blinked twice.

"Sam? Isn't she a waitress on one of our dates or something? Because if that's who she is I never exactly became friends with her..." Carly continued.

"No, Sam, she's-" I tried to continue, then someone caught my eye. I saw someone coming in.

It was Sam, but not the way I remember her. She was wearing the same stuff she would wear. A rainbow striped hoodie, with jeans and colorfull sneakers. But she looked weird. Like her eyes, for example. She was always looking at her feet. She was moving without any of her usual energy. Her arms were crossed around her, as if she was creating some kind of barrier from her and the rest of the world. But ere's the weirdest part: she didn't come say hi to me and Carly. She just headed straight for her locker.

"That's Sam," I pointed at her, "Now you remember her?"

"Oh, Samantha! I've never heard anyone call her Sam...Why do you care anyway?" she asked. I should've just shrugged it off, but there was something weird about the way she said Samantha. As if she hated saying her name. She said it with disgust.

"She's your best friend...you know if someone calls her Samantha, they'd end up drop-kicked." I answered, then recalling the first time I met her. I was pretty big on being proper, especially with names. I called Carly 'Carlotta'. And I called Sam 'Samantha'. Safe to say I remembered since then not to call people by their first names.

At first, Carly stared at me, raising her eyebrows. Her face was saying 'Seriously? Did you just say that?'. She stared at the floor, biting her lip, wondering exactly what to say.

"That ball must have hit you pretty hard." Carly finally answered, "I was never Samantha's friend, Freddie. No one ever was."

"What do you mean? I'm her friend!" I insisted. And it was true. I admit she drives me insane sometimes. But we did have our moments. More than Carly and me had, surprisingly.

But when I said I was her friend, Carly laughed, "Yeah, right, you and Samantha Puckett...'friends'." she kept on laughing, too. Until she saw my face, which showed her I wasn't kidding. "Oh, you were serious..."

"I admit, she drives me crazy sometimes, but she's still my best friend. She's yours, too." I told her.

"Stop saying that!" Carly said, "Saying me and Samantha are friends is like saying a nail and a hammer are friends!"

"Why? I don't..." Understand. That's what I was about to say. I admit, inside of me, I still suspected this was some kind of prank, but all that went away. Carly was a good actress, but she could never fake being mean. She didn't have a mean bone in her body. But this 'hate' she seemed to have for Sam...it seemed real. This could not be a prank.

"I...why don't we just talk to her?" I said. Before Carly could even answer, I turned around and headed towards Sam.

"Sam," I called out to her, even touching her shoulder.

She jumped. She dropped all her books. She turned around to see me, and the look she gave me, I'll never forget. There was fear in her eyes, her mouth slightly hanged in shock, and her arms weren't across her chest anymore, but open wide, leaning towards the lockers, the way someone who was about to be attacked would be.

"What a loser..." I heard someone whisper. Again, I half expected Sam to punch whoever said it, but she didn't. Instead she stood there, frozen.

I was confused, but bend down and grabbed her books anyway. She still didn't move. I was confused to what she was doing with books anyway. When I stood up and handed her the books, instead of taking them, she looked at me, then the books back and forth. Cautiously, she took the books in her hand, then clutched it tightly, staring at me.

I stared back. Why was she like this? She was shivering, and I took one step closer, she took one step back...it was as if she was, well, afraid of me.

"Hey, Samantha." I heard Carly said. I turned around to see her coming towards us with a fake smile plastered on her face. But I expected Sam to go crazy and glare at Carly for calling her Samantha. But she didn't. She was still confused.

"Sam, what's wrong?" I asked.

"W-What do you want? Are you going to steal something from me?" Sam asked, not bitterly or sarcastically, but again, with fear.

"Come on, Sam, why would I do that?" I asked with a laugh. As if I would dare steal something from Sam Puckett!

"You called me Sam..." she whispered.

"Of course I did...that is your name right?" I said with a laugh, trying to be silly.

But she didn't answer right away. Instead she looked in my eyes. Rather, stared. Then something must have shocked her, because she took another step back and her eyes went back to the floor. "Is this some kind of a joke?" she snapped.

"What? No, I just..."

"Calm down, Samantha, all he's doing is trying to be nice to you and you're being a complete freak about it. You'd rather he does what he usually does to you or be nice? Your call." Carly snapped back. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. This didn't make sense. Carly was like a mean girl, and it was as if Sam was some kind of victim.

"I, um...have to go." Sam finally said, closing her locker and walking as fast as she could.

And Carly grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to her, "Okay! Bye, Samantha, nice seeing you." she said sarcastically.

I would have ran after her, demanding an explination, if Carly hadn't pulled me away. Sam faded away as Carly pulled me further then stopped me right in front of her.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"You were flirting with her!" Carly shrieked. She put her hands on her hips, in a demanding manner.

"No I wasn't! It's Sam! She's my friend!" I protested, "And come on, you can't seriously be jealous of her..."

"Please! I'm not jealous of Samantha Puckett. And you? Friends with her? Ha! Right." Carly laughed.

"You know, you need to calm down. She's my friend, too, I can't blow her off for you." I said, and I actually meant it. I never pictured me going out with Carly and shutting Sam out, ever. But I never pictures Carly to do that either.

"Why? Why do you insist on hanging out with that loser?" Carly yelled, enough for Sam, who, to be honest, wasn't that far from us, to hear. I saw Sam's face sticking out to her left a bit. She heard. I saw her face, and with a long sigh, she closed her locker and was about to leave.

I cringed. Carly would never call anyone a loser. She can barely call Nevel a loser. She was voted as Ridgeway's Sweetheart! No matter how much she hated someone, she would never dare say anything bad about them. That's what made me like her so much.

"You know what? She's not a loser. And I can't talk to you while you're being such. A. BRAT!" I yelled, just as loud as she did. She dropped her jaw. And to be honest, I took a step back. I was about to prepare to apologize. If this was really Carly, I expected her to run to the bathroom and cry. But she didn't.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that we now had every student in the hall's full attention. I saw Sam turn around as soon as I said that and looked at me, wide-eyed.

"Call me when you grow up." I answered, turning my back on her.

I felt everyone's eyes on me, and I heard the cheerleaders running towards Carly to support her (oddly enough, the real Carly wasn't exactly friends with the cheerleaders) and my eyes widened with one sudden realization: I just had a fight with my girlfriend...for Sam Puckett.

"Holy chizz..." I said out loud as I kept on walking, but I was staring at my feet, barely aware of where I was going. A few seconds later, the tension between me and Carly was replaced by the sound of someone's body being viciously slammed against the lockers.

I turned around to see Sam, the same Sam people are afraid of, the same Sam who once broke her boyfriend's leg, on the ground, helplessly clutching her injured shoulder. And I saw Pete Beckman, the guy she once became girly for, standing in front of her, with his friends, laughing at her.

"You OK, Puckett?" he laughed.

'Fight, Sam, fight...' I thought to myself. If this was a prank, Sam would have broken the instant Pete pushed her. This was definitely not a prank. But as I saw Sam on the ground, her elbows barely keeping the rest of her body up, there was a look in her eyes. Not the threatening look that said 'You better run...' before she would attack, but she stood there, looking at him, as if she was daring him to kick her around more.

And he did.

"What'cha looking at, Puckett?" Pete yelled. Next thing I knew, he grabbed Sam's arm, pulled her up, only to smack her across the face. I saw her fall down, clutching her cheek.

Amazingly, no one stopped him. No teachers or students. They stared...and laughed. At Sam...

Even more amazingly, I don't know what had gotten over me, but, as if they had a mind of their own, my legs suddenly forced me to walk towards Pete. I put my hands on his shoulders and roughly pushed him against the lockers, "What do you think you're doing?" I yelled at him.

Although I should have been asking myself that. Did I really think I could take down Pete Beckman? It was an impulse act, I did it without thinking at all. It was as if I couldn't think, I just knew I had to do something. I should have thought this through...but thankfully, I saw Pete was clearly afraid, and the crowd behind me stopped laughing and gasped.

Of course. They see a guy fight, they gasp. It's oh-so-shocking but when it's a guy hitting a girl kind of fight, it's hilarious how much of a loser that girl really is.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" I yelled at his face, this time, I held his collar, and kept on pushing him with every word. I know, it's a cliché thing to say, but I couldn't think of anything. I'm not exactly a fighty type of guy.

"Whoa, Freddie, I-I'm sorry! I didn't know you and the lose-I mean, Samantha were a thing! I though you were dating Carly!" Pete cried. Was his practically begging me to let him go?

"Me and Sam are not a thing!" I yelled. First mistake, I called her 'Sam' in a school where people only knew her as Samantha, "But she's a girl and you're not supposed to hit them!"

Several people started whispering. The main thing I heard was 'Why does he care whether or not Puckett's being hit?'. And the truth is, I wouldn't care if this was SAM Puckett. If Sam Puckett was hit, believe me, the person who did the hitting wouldn't live to tell the tale. She was strong, and would never let anyone overpower her. But SAMANTHA Puckett was a different case...she was being hit, and no one cared. It was like they enjoyed it.

And if Sam wasn't gonna protect herself, I feel I, who was probably her only friend as of now in this world, should.

"I'm sorry! I won't hit her again, I swear, I promise!" Pete promised. It was weird, seeing someone so afraid of me, Freddie Benson. I guess I can see why Sam likes fighting so much, she feels respected, and more powerful.

"You better not...and spread the word, whoever messes with her messes with me." I said, trying to sound all threatening as I released his collar. Pete fell on the ground, then ran away from me.

I smirked. I admit, I was showing off a bit. But hey, this dream isn't going to last forever? Me saving Sam? Usually it's the other way around. Well, except no one's ever been this mean to me before. As soon as I turned around, everybody left. Except for Sam, who was still on the ground. I helped her up, and was amazed to see she wasn't cryinf her anything, just shocked mostly.

"You okay?" I asked her.

"Y-Yeah...it's fine, he didn't hit hard enough to leave a mark." she said. I nodded, not really listening as I inspected her cheek. She seemed fine to me.

"Why...did you do that?" she asked me. I turned my eyes from her cheek to her eyes, "Do what?"

"You defended me. Against your girlfriend and Pete, who practically worships you. Why?" she asked again.

"Because...you were being hit. I don't know if you noticed, but that's not normal, especially when no one comes to help."

She stayed silent for a while, focusing on what to say next. "You called me Sam. Is that some sort of nickname now?" she asked me. I didn't answer. To be honest, I was still wondering why the heck I stuck my neck out for her when she could have beaten Pete up easily. I bet she was wondering the same thing.

"Okay..." she started. Obviously, she could tell I wasn't going to answer. "But I don't get it. Carly's called me a loser a bunch of times already and Pete's been like this every day. I don't see why that would affect you now..."

I stopped in my tracks and looked at her straight in her blue eyes, "What do you mean Carly called you a loser a bunch of times?"

"So do you!" she snapped as she suddenly stopped walking, "Look, Freddie, I don't know if this is some kind of game, but if it is, can't you cut me some slack just for once? It's not like you and your friends haven't done enough..."

And with that, she walked away.

I wanted to follow her. Find out exactly what it is I did that made her hate me, and actual hate, and made her look like the victim and me the bully. Was I really that bad in this dream?

GENERAL POV

To say that Carly Shay was pissed was the understatement of the year.

She walked down the halls with that 'Talk to me and I'll make sure the rest of your school life goes to hell' look in her eyes. When she walked, everyone was smart enough to step away from her.

In this reality, Carly Shay wasn't just the most popular girl in school. She was the perfect girl anyone would want to bring home to mom. Unfortunately, when she didn't get what she want, she was the Ice Queen. And everyone knew today was not a good day.

"Can you believe Freddie actually defended Samantha Puckett? Then called you a brat? What a hypocrite!" Missy Robinson, Carly's best friend, exclaimed.

"Don't forget...he also gave Man Hands a nickname and fought Pete Beckman because he pushed her." Carly added, "Something fishy's going on.."

"I heard Samantha even blew up on Freddie. Rumor has it she totally snapped!" Missy said.

"...So, she was...giving him a hard time, huh?" Carly smirked.

"Yep. And you know we can't have him unhappy." Missy said with a grin.

"I think, as his girlfriend, it's my duty to tell _her_..that Samantha's been bugging him, right?" Carly said with a smile as she grabbed her cell phone and called her.

A sly, evil grin was painted across Missy's lips, "You're evil, Shay."

As she put the phone to her ear, she was aware of what might happen to Samantha once SHE knew. But did she care? What matters is that Freddie was unhappy, and she can't have that.

"Aren't we all, Missy?"

* * *

**AN: OKAY as you probably guessed, this isn't exactly Carly or Sam or any of the other typical Ridgeway students...Oh well, poor Freddie still thinks this is a dream xP **


	4. Chapter 4: The Pain

**_AN: WARNING...HUGE EYE RAPE DUE TO HORRIBLE SPELLING. GRAMMAR NAZIS ARE REMINDED THIS HORRIBLE SPELLING IS ONLY FOR THE PURPOSE OF THE GIBBY AND IS NOT MEANT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY. And oh, okay, I KNOW the 'describing the pain' thing sucked, but I'm not exactly sad at the moment so it doesn't help either, and I had to think of it right on the spot, so yeah..._**

* * *

The more I got further into this...dream, or whatever it was, the more I felt so Anti-Freddie. Girls were fawning over me, boys were trying so hard to look cool in front of me and the rest who didn't fall into those two categories were afraid of me, or at least, that's what it looked like. People that I hated in the past who were cool were now afraid of me, and I don't know how to react. Carly's still mad at me, as one may predict, but I was still trying the puzzle the pieces together.

But now that I was in English, and apparently, Gibby's my best friend, I passed him a note during class. But the conversation confused me a lot considerin how it went. I started off with a simple note.

'So, you probably heard some kid hit my head with a basketball..'

'Rilly? Wo dude r u ok nao?' he wrote back, and I see he has the same illegible spelling as in real life.

'I'm fine...but I forgot some things. Care to tell me my position in this school, with Carly and Sam?' His eyes widened when he reached he end of the letter.

'Sam as in samantha? O yea i herd u totalee defended her...i tot u hayted her'

'The last thing I remember is that Sam and Carly were my best friends, and you were part of it too. Sam was strong and fearless and could knock any guy down. Now she's different, and its unusual.'

'WOW. u most hav hit ur hed hard. Carlys bean chaysing u sinse da 6th grayde end yoove bean d8ing 4 a yeer...Samantha end u wer nvr frends u hated her and we harasd her dats y she has brooses. We allways steel her food too...she bearly eers bcoz of it! Remimbir we wonce stole dat essay payper she rote 4 a contest end we ended up winning bcoz of her essay? Bisides u did somting wors remimbir? LOL PS: yoo spelt its rong'

I did something worse?

I cringed when I read this. I don't understand how anyone can find any of this funny or hilarious. This is pure bullying. Bullying at its worse. Skipping lunch was important, and it's true Sam did look unusually skinny today, even in a hoodie. And from what I can understand, we even harmed her physically enough to cause her bruises? And...how could he tell I spelt 'its' wrong?...

But that wasn't important. All I know is this wasn't normal, and I was about to write another letter demanding on how on earth that could be funny, and what did I do that was 'worse', but the teacher interrupted.

"Okay, class, I graded all your papers and all of you got As. Except for...Samantha Puckett." the teacher, Miss Holiday, smirked at Sam. I turned my head and noticed she was so tiny and invisible I barely noticed her all at the back of the class. A couple of snickers came when the teacher proudly took Sam's essay and showed it to the world, with the big, fat, bloodshot F+ written on it, with the big circle.

"Horrible work, as always, Puckett." she said, and Sam looked really upset and offended, "But Miss Holiday...I worked really hard for that! It's not fair, I worked so hard and you're telling me I got an F?" she yelled angrily, and I saw a bit more of that infamous Puckett sass I missed so much, and I found myself smiling a bit, but even that was missing something.

"Really? Well, why don't I just read it in front of everyone?" she suggested, and continued before Sam could protest, "The assignment was to describe pain and sorrow. Let's see if you did it correctly..."

I held my breath as she began to read the first few lines...

'Though no physical wound has touched me, I felt pain in my heart. A sensation similar to a needle taking blood from people's fragile bodies, this needle was taking life out of my heart. Heavy with mixed emotions of sorrow and anger, I felt it was clenched so tightly, it was burst at any second, and soon, I would not be able to live my life. But perhaps this is a good thing. Death would be a gift compared to the horrible game called life, which is filled with twists and turns and woe. I close my eyes with a smile, the promise of death in the morning send gladness to my thoughts. But unfortunately, I open my eyes, and realize my heart is not actually bursting, or broken. No, it's a faith much crueler than that. The same, empty feeling stays, but I will not die. Instead, I will live life as it is, and go on living. I suffer through life with the empty feeling inside me, knowing tomorrow everyday, my nightmares are waiting for me outside the door. I let tears fall from my eyes. Instead of dying and leaving me be, they'd rather I stay alive and torture me for the rest of eternity. And the thought of living, a ritual so scary and filled with hatred, scared me more than death itself.'

"...Sam wrote that?" I gasped, as I looked at Sam, who was now closing her eyes, to avoid tears, I'm guessing. I don't know what to react to first. The unbelievable fact Sam can write, or the angst and depression that was obviously in the essay. The fact that she kept on saying 'I' and 'death' in the same sentence scared the chiz out of me.

Several more jeers and laughs were directed at Sam, but how could they not see what I see? Sam Puckett was suicidal. But instead, they started calling her 'Emo Girl' and throwing stuff at her.

"Miss Puckett, you completely missed the point of the essay. You were overdramatic, unbelievably depressing and quite frankly, I heard you wanted to be a write when you grow up, but you don't have the talent, sweetie." Miss Holiday added, with fake sympathy at the 'sweetie' part.

"Writer? Please! The girl who sings about the days of the week could become a better writer than you!" one of them laughed.

"You completely suck at writing, and everything else, so just go die in a hole!" they yelled.

"Is there anything you're actually good at, Puckett?" Gibby laughed.

"Gibby!" I said, but Gibby looked at me with a dumbfounded look, "What?"

With each insult thrown at her, Sam looked more and more hurt, looking around the room, searching for a way to escape. But they were literally everywhere. And I could easily see she wanted, no, NEEDED, to cry...I should have said something, but I was too speechless. All I could do was watch in horror.

"Listen to the children, Samantha. You're talentless, and if you truly try to persue a career in writing, you'd probably fail and end up as a hobo. But you can always try prostitution!" Miss Holiday was now laughing cruely. My jaw was now officially on the floor ho could they say these things? Teachers aren't allowed to say things like this, to Sam, or anyone! And they shouldn't let other kids say things like this!

"Please! Not even prostitution is an option. Even whores have to be a LITTLE bit pretty, right, Sammie?" some girl added, the laughing became even worst. Finally, Sam couldn't take it anymore. She stood up and out of the class. And everyone was still making fun of her!

"What an attention whore..." someone muttered.

What the-?

No! How could they just make her cry like that and get away with it? I wasn't gonna leave her like this! She could end up cutting, or worst!

And I felt so angry. I looked at the students, including Gibby, who though got angry and was tough, wouldn't dare make a girl cry. They weren't ordinary students anymore in my eyes. They were monsters, mocking and torturing someone just because they can. They laugh while she cries, and they laugh even harder to ensure she stays that way. I know they weren't mocking me, but a girl that just yesterday I was yelling at. Yet I don't think I've ever felt so angry for anything. It drove me nuts, and I just wanted to hurt everyone in this class, one way or another. And given my apparent new reputation, it wouldn't be too hard.

But they didn't deserve to be wasted a single breath on. And Sam was out there somewhere, crying.

I suddenly stood up from my chair and ran after Sam, not caring if I'd get in trouble for this. What they did was wrong, and I don't care whether it was a dream or a prank, that was genuine hurt I saw on Sam's face, and friends or not, I couldn't just stand there watching idly by while one of my best friends was being harassed, especially when I've been a jerk to her in real life, and apparently, I was her number one bully in this dream.

I couldn't believe it, of course. In fact, I don't believe it. But Sam probably believes it too since she was so surprised of me helping her this morning. But come on, honestly, me a bully? You might as well call Gibby a jock, Sam the head cheerleader and Carly the school's bad girl.

When I was in the hallways, I followed the sounds of her crying. It sounded more like someone being tortured to death. Her wails and cries were uncontrollable, horrible and heart-aching. And I'm saying this in the nicest way I can. Pretty soon, it felt like I wanted to break down and cry, so I ran, trying to find her now, for both of our sakes.

The cries lead to the girls' bathroom, which I was reluctant to go in at first but eventually went in. No one but Sam's gonna see me, right?

When I went in, I didn't see her, but I knew she was in one of the stalls. The sneakers on the floor were a dead giveaway. It was even more painful to be near her as she cried.

It had to end, so I knocked on the stall a couple of times, "Sam?" I called out.

"...Wh-Who's there?" she sniffled, trying to hold back her tears.

"It's Freddie." I answered, then I heard silence on her part. I mentally slapped myself. Of course, I remember, Sam hates, like legit hates, me in this reality. If what Gibby told me is true, and I've done something far worse than steal her food (which the real Sam would have drop-kicked me for) or steal her essays and won prizes at her place, I can't imagine her trusting me right this way.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice was a bit clearer, but still shaky.

"Well, when you see someone running away and crying, you don't just sit there and leave them alone." I said obviously.

"M-Maybe you should...if someone runs away, that means they don't want anyone to see them crying." she reasoned, in a gentler voice than I could have imagined.

"Touché." I added, but I couldn't leave her there. I sighed, and opened my backpack. Convienantly, there was a bottle of Peppy Cola in there. "Look, Sam, just please come out? There's a cold bottle of Peppy Cola in it for you..." I tried to convince her, wondering if despite the bullying, she was still a fan of eating and drinking.

"Why are you being nice, Freddie? I can't remember a day in my life when you didn't hurt me." she said. What was scarier was that she said 'when you didn't hurt me', and not 'when you didn't TRY to hurt me'.

"It's hard to explain, Sam, but all those times that 'I've' been bullying you," I said, adding air marks to I've that she'll never see, "that wasn't me."

"So you're saying that for the past 6 years, you weren't you?" Sam asked sarcastically. I could have smiled at that sarcasm. That sarcasm showed that beneath the fear she had, there was still a bit of Sam in her. But I didn't know how to answer her question.

"Well, no...if you come out, I'll explain to you. And I promise I won't hurt you..." my voice seemed so soft and gentle to my ears, I don't know how anyone could have refused me. Evidently, she must have thought so, too, because then she unlocked the door, revealing her red, puffy face.

It showed way too much she had been crying, and knowing the students here, they'd probably make fun of her the second she comes out. I handed her the Peppy Cola, like I promised, but she didn't take it right away. She looked at it like it was a knife or a gun, then looked back at me with caution in her eyes.

"Go on, I won't bite..." I told her. Why did it seem like the roles were reversed all of a sudden?

When she took the Peppy Cola slowly, her hands touched mine for a split second. I smiled at the contact, but she immediatly pulled away nervously, even taking a step back. She was so obviously afraid of me for a reason I can't understand. I sighed and grabbed her hand and put the Peppy Cola bottle in her hands, "See? Nothing to be afraid of."

Her eyes trailed off to her hands, and I noticed my hands were still holding hers. Her hands were unbelievably warm, and my thumb was close to her wrist, where I felt her pulse. It was faster than usual...Once I realized she was uncomfortable, I pulled away, almost as fast as she did, but not because I was afraid, more out of embarassment.

"Uh..." I muttered.

"Why are you helping me?" Sam muttered, not even attempting to hide her sadness, "If this is all some sort of prank..."

"No, no, nothing like that!" I promised, "I guess I owe you an explination. Look, I don't know exactly what I did to you to make you hate me, but as you might have heard, I got hit in the head with a ball yesterday and can't remember how my life used to be. I can only remember peoples' names and all but not if I was friends with them or not." I half-lied. It wasn't all a lie, just the ball part. "And I don't know how I used to treat you, but that's in the past and I don't think it's right for people to treat you the way they do."

Sam bit her lip as she took a sip from the bottle, not looking at me once in the eyes. She truly was afraid of me. And I can't imagine the horrible things I must have done for her to be afraid.

"Well, why don't you ask your...friends?" she said, saying 'friends' like it was venom, "Then you can go back to treating me the way you always did."

"How exactly did I treat you?" I asked. I guess, from what Gibby's told me, it's enoufh for her to hate me. But it seemed to go further than that, though. "What's the worst thing I did to you?"

Sam sighed. I could tell she wasn't ready to answer this question. "Let's just say...you scarred me for life." she said. Obviously, I had no idea what that meant. When I was about to ask, she shook her head, "Forget it. Just...wait a couple of days, and I'll bet you and I will be back to where we left off. As enemies. As victims."

"I don't want it to! I don't want to hurt you anymore, and I don't know how serious my bullying was to you, but I'm sorry but that wasn't really me and I don't know what I can do for you to forgive me." I panted. Even in this reality she was stubborn. So that showed Sam was still Sam right?

"I don't know, either." Sam said honestly, "But put yourself in my position. Since the third grade, you've been a victim of abuse from some guy and his friends who did the worst of the worst to you and suddenly, the guy wants to be your friend. I doubt you'd befriend him."

"When you mean abuse, do you mean name-calling and...y'know, playful bickering?" I asked, in hopes our friendship was still there, or that Sam is exagerating.

"By abuse, I meant you're the reason I'm wearing a hoodie on a hot summer day." Sam finally answered, putting the Peppy Cola down and leaving the bathroom. And I should have ran after her. I should have kept convincing her I wasn't as bad as they say. This was way too much. I don't know what happened with me. Whether it was a dream, or a nightmare or I'm in some kind of coma and this is the result, I don't care. It scared me.

Whoever, whatever, I am scared me. Her last words scared me, and fear froze me.

* * *

"And she was giving Freddie a hard time. A really hard time..." Carly smiled as she sipped her tea.

"Freddie was being all nice to her and she kept on pushing him away! It was so mean. I mean, who does that?" Missy added over-dramatically, to which Carly responded by rolling her eyes.

"Anyway..." she said, turning her attention back to 'Mrs Taylor', "I think Samantha needs to be taught a lesson or two. We all know what Freddie truly wanted, and this THING isn't it."

"You told me this before, Carly. But don't you worry your pretty little head. The herd will pull the sheep back in. Meaning if Samantha doesn't leave by her own will, Freddie will get turned back into the popular crowd, anyway. So don't worry. Give it a couple of days. If things get worst, I'll take care of it. Make sure Samantha remembers her place." Mrs Taylor smiled.

Carly and Missy shared a glance before sharing a similar smile.


	5. Chapter 5: The Feelings

**_iAm Not Freddie Taylor_**

**_AN: Sweet, good God almighty, don't kill me for updating so late...I have Seddie bonding to make up for it! :D seriously though, I have some kind of obsession with adding violence to every iCarly fic I've written -.-' I'm guessin' it's cause the show is a teens show...and I'm a huge fan of action flicks xP_**

* * *

Sam always seemed to disappeared after that. It was as if she never wanted to see me again, and I don't blame her. I always thought Sam had build up walls in reality. Walls to keep anyone from getting close to her out of fear of getting hurt. But I always thought that me, Carly and Spencer had just started breaking those walls, at least cracking them a bit (even Gibby was on his way there). And if I thought she had walls then, boy it does not compare to now. Now Sam's walls were as tough as steel and as big as the wall of China, but no one dared to break them. The biggest wall she had created was against me. I saw it in her eyes in the bathroom, she began to trust me, I was sure of that. But then she retracted, remembering I was the 'boy who scared her for life', and I was still trying to figure out what that meant. And maybe I was pushing it. Maybe I was going too far, but Sam's words in her essay haunted me.

'Death would be a gift compared to the horrible game called life...'

I don't know if she's been cutting her wrists or doing things to..._hurt herself_ (the very notion send shivers), but even if she wasn't, her words showed she was heading there. I doubt her words were just to 'get attention' as others were now saying. Maybe she wasn't so convinced I was being truthful, but I guess I had to do little gestures to prove it.

Now it was lunchtime, and roaming through the halls, I still felt like a celebrity. But I wasn't enjoying it.

"Hey, Freddie!" Gibby ran next to me. I didn't feel like talking to him, especially since he insulted Sam, but he was apparently my best friend. "Didja hear Carly and Missy skipped the last two periods?"

"Carly? Missing class? Hardly." I scoffed, then I remembered this wasn't Carly, but a cruel imitation of her.

Gibby raised his eyebrow questioningly, but didn't say anything, "So what's up with you and Samantha Puckett?" he asked.

"The question is, what's up with the rest of the world and Sam Puckett?" I asked him angrily as I remembered he participated in bullying Sam.

Gibby laughed and raised his hands up defensively, taking all this as some kind of joke, "Whoa, easy there, tiger. I'm just saying, a girl like Samantha Puckett is just asking for bullying. I mean, come on! Just look at her! The way she moves, walks, talks, acts, dresses, she's a target for bullying! Besides, she deserves it." Gibby said.

"Is this payback for all the times she's given you wedgies? Because even if it is, that's not cool, Gibby, you and Sam still became friends during 8th grade, and she's even defended you a couple of times." I told him, then I remembered Sam wasn't the same here. So giving wedgies or befriending Gibby was something she never did.

"Samantha Puckett giving me wedgies? Please..." Gibby rolled his eyes in amusement.

"Look, all I'm saying is, lay off Sam. She's not that bad..." I tried to convince him. Then in horror, remembered what Sam told me earlier, "Erm...Gib? What's the worst thing we did to Sam?"

That's when it went all weird. Gibby stopped in his tracks, with a look I've never seen on him before. Then again, I saw plenty of expressions I never saw on anyone I knew before: an 'I'm-so-much-better-than-everyone' smirk on Carly, a cool, chill expression on my mom's face, as if she'd just went to a spa treatment, the 'kissing up' face of Pete, much less kissing up to me, and fear on Sam. Now I saw a weird look on Gibby. And all of a sudden he turned to me, "Are you wearing a wire?"

"A wire? Wha-? No! Why? Was what we did...that bad?" I whispered the last part. What could we have possibly done to Sam?

"Listen, you told us not to talk about it!" Gibby said, his voice filled with panic and worry, "I-If you tell on us, we'll...uh, w-we'll tell on you! Y-Yeah! I-It would have never happened if y-y-you didn't bring that stupid knife!"

"Knife?" I snapped. Without thinking, I grabbed Gibby by his collar and shoved him against the wall. Thank God the halls were practically empty, or someone would have to explain why, in addition to defending Sam, Freddie 'Taylor' would hurt his best friend. I wasn't gonna hurt him, but judging from the look in his eyes, he was terrified of me. I figured that I could use that to my advantage. "Gibby...What. Did. You. Do?" I seethed through my teeth.

"Not what I did, Freddie. Remember, _you _caused the biggest scar...I mean, we're lucky enough Puckett survived and didn't tell on us, but if she says anything, just anything...We could all lose everything. End up in jail, lose our scholarships, our girlfriends, our friends..." Gibby whispered the last part in fear. I was so caught up looking at Gibby's face, trying to process everything in my mind, I didn't notice I was panting heavily in anger. My hands felt clammy, and I was shaking everywhere. A part of me wanted to know. What did I do to Sam? But a part of me was glad I didn't know. It was so serious I could have end up in jail if the truth got out.

"Th-That's why we keep on torturing Puckett. To remind her if she says anything..." Gibby continued, but stopped talking as soon as he finally noticed I wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of hurting Sam. Then I looked at him threatingly again, "Who else was in on this...whatever we did?"

"Y-You know, the gang. You, me, Jonah, Pete, Missy, Carly..." he continued. Carly? Carly was in on this, too?

"Y-You know what? Maybe it's best that you forgot...if we do get caught, you can fake it and pretend it never happened." Gibby said, in an attempt to be cheerful. Quickly, I released him, and ran away from him, searching for Sam. If I stayed any longer with him, I might have actually punched him or something. I ran into the cafeteria, and hearing a faint chant. As I got closer, I made out some of the words.

"Get out of here!" "We don't want you in our school!" "Go kill yourself!"

And I ran faster.

As I did, the chant became like some kind of requiem. The kind of chant you'd hear creepy people in matching hoods sing over some kind of sacrifice. It scared me at some point, I almost stopped in my tracks and left the school, but if I was right, then there was only one person the whole school should have hated so much they would act like this.

And I was right.

When I got there, I had to push some of the students in my way. No, they weren't in creepy black cloaks holding fire torches or anything, but they were just as creepy. Their expressionless faces singing the same thing over and over again, as if this was a daily thing to witness. When I arrived to the center, I gasped at what I saw.

A blonde haired girl, beaten down on the floor to the point that she could barely stand anymore, with someone who was twice her size towering her in victory. "Still think you're oh-so-special, Sam?" he taunted, his foot in the air preparing for another kick. I saw Sam close her eyes, awaiting the blow and already biting her lip in pain.

But the kick never came, because I grabbed his foot and shoved it to the ground behind me, making him lose his balance and fall on his face. A chorus of gasps was heard, but I ignored it and rushed to Sam's side helping her up, "Are you okay...?" I asked softly. I never thought I had to be soft with Sam, but then she looked at me and I had to keep myself from gaping. Her messy blonde hair covered almost all of her head, but her face was visible with new bruises already forming. Her whole face was pink, and an already-purple bruise could be seen on the corner of her eye. She was wearing a hoodie and pants, so obviously, I couldn't see if she had any bruises there, I was just hoping she didn't.

I noticed her eyes were full of surprise when she looked at me, like she didn't expect my help. Then instead of standing up like I've been helping her to, she slid back to the floor. She looked at me with wide eyes, and I saw dried tear marks on her cheeks, and a little cut on her lips. And soon she covered her face with her arms, "D-Don't hurt me! P-Please!" she begged. She was trembling so badly, you'd think she's spent a day buried in snow, and it was surprising to know that her trembles were triggered by fear. Her face was facing the other way and her arms shielding her from me, then she started panicking and mumbling other things, mainly to not hurt her.

I couldn't stand this. The girl I came to know as the strongest person I ever knew, both emotionally and physically speaking, showed fear in her eyes, in her actions, in her words...I barely notice the unshed tears in my eyes.

"Sam, Sam, Sam!" I pleaded, kneeling down beside her and grabbing her wrists as gently as I could since she was struggling, and putting them down, away from her face. With one hand, I kept her wrists down, then grabbed her chin towards me. I got her to calm down, but she was still crying uncontrollably, and her eyes were still looking down, "Sam? Please look at me..." I whispered to her.

Something inside me...felt heavier. As if someone had their hands on my chest and was pulling it down. That feeling came when she sobbed, but her eyes slowly tilted towards mine, filled with uncertainty and fear.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. Okay? Not now, not ever.." I promised her. Her eyes were still uncertain, and she was still crying, but her trembling stopped. I took this as a good sign. And slowly, carefully, I wrapped my arms around her, giving her the most comfortale hug I could.

Slowly, very slowly, she stopped crying. She didn't return the hug, but as long as she stopped crying, that was enough for me. "Can you stand?" I whispered. I felt her nod and begin to stand up. I gently broke the hug as I took her arms and pushed her up, as gently as possible. Finally, we weren't hugging or holding each other up, just staring at each other, oblivious to the massive crowd staring back at us. "Th-Thanks..."

"It's cool." I smiled, relieved she was fine. My eyes darted to the guy who was hurting her. It was Jonah. Due to landing on his face, his nose was broken. I rolled my eyes. He deserves that in this life and in real life. I took a second look at the crowd in front of us, whispering about us. More importantly, whispering about Sam. I looked at her, and she was looking everywhere nervously, at the people who were glaring at her and all.

"Let's get out of here." I suggested to her. Her eyes widened once again, "Wha-? But, I-"

"Just come!" I told her, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the cafeteria. I felt a wave of smugness as everyone parted like the Red Sea when I came towards them. I didn't care, though, about how much they whispered. Even though Sam, surprisngly, looked around her, as if she was trying to figure out what exactly was going on.

"Are we ditching?" she asked.

"Yup." I said the way Sam would, as nonchantly as possile, adding a pop to the P. Surprisingly, Sam didn't answer, but rather just went along with it. And I'm perfectly aware this was school. And Freddie Taylor or Benson, I was still a model student. But Sam needed to get away from here and to cheer up. And I knew just the place where to go.

* * *

The Groovy Smoothie, in real life, was the ultimate hang-out. Free internet, good snacks, good drinks, close to home and school, the music was always catchy, and the bright lights created an amusing, fun athmosphere. Even when I went alone sometimes, I felt slightly happier to be there.

"Have you ever been to here?" I asked her as we sat down on one of the high chairs.

"N-No. All the popular kids go here, it doesn't seem right that I go." Sam admitted. I frowned. True, even in real life, a lot of popular kids went there. But Sam was the kind of girl to go wherever she wanted, regardless of who she might find.

"You shouldn't care so much about what people think about you." I told her.

"I don't care. But whenever I go here, you an-I mean, they like to make fun of me. It doesn't seem worth a smoothie." Sam said. I bit my lip. It was hard to believe anyone was bullied everywhere they go that they can't even go wherever they want anymore. So this Sam, socially and maybe emotionally, wasn't the same Sam but I wonder...

I reached into my bag, squeezing it, then felt something familiar and spongy. I smirked, "Do you have any favorite snacks?"

Sam blinked in response. With a twinge of excitement, I opened my bag and revealed a Fat Cake, the Grand-Sized ones, and handed it to her. She stared at it in shock, and I couldn't help but laugh. Less than five minutes ago, she was crying her eyes out, now she was staring at a Fat Cake with her eyes wide and her mouth practically drooling from hunger. Without a second thought, she grabbed it from my hands, opened it and ate both of the Fat Cakes, which, I may remind you, being Grand-Sized were bigger than mine and Sam's fists combined, in a matter of ten seconds.

I laughed at her as she greedily licked the chocolate cream from her lips. At least her hunger is the same. Pretty soon, she looked at me, embarassed, "Sorry, I should have saved you some..." she muttered.

"No need." I smiled, "Seems like you...really love Fat Cakes."

"How could you not? They're my favorite!" she exclaimed, wiping some of the chocolate off her mouth. For the first time, she seemed genuinely happy. And in one second, her face changed, as if she realized she was with...an almost-complete stranger. "W-Why are you doing this?"

"I told you, I just wanna make amends...the way those kids treat you, it's not right." I answered.

"Well, yeah, but you've treated me like that since the third grade." she reminded me hesitantly. I can imagine it mustn't have been easy. And her hatred with me isn't the same hatred as the one in real life. In real life, she and I had a pretty complicated friendship, but we always, always had each other's backs. Her hatred of me now was genuine fear. At this thought, the question came up in my mind again. What did I do to Sam that was so bad?

But I realized now wasn't the time to ask the question. Yes, she was Sam Puckett. Yes, she looked and sounded like her. But she wasn't the same Sam I knew. Years of fear and torture might have done that to her, hidden her true feelings from the world completely.

"...Then I guess it took a baskeball to the head to realize I was wrong." I offered weakly. I could't exactly tell her I lived in an alternate universe where she and I were...complicated friends.

"I-I guess so..." Sam stuttered. She's been doing that a lot lately. During the walk from school to here, she stuttered considerably less, but her stuttering streak was slowly peeking back, making me bite my lip nervously. I saved her twice and went after her when the whole class was practically rioting against her. I'm not expecting her to act like she was my best friend again, but I did wish she would stop being so afraid of me.

Apparently, she picked up on my thoughts, "Look, Freddie...I really appriciate you trying to help me and all. Really, and I know that you really mean it when you say you want to be friends, but you gotta understand, for years, I've been literally terrified of you. I was afraid to go out knowing you might be somewhere out there. We can be friends, but...it's gonna take some time."

I smiled. Knowing we at least had a shot was enough. "It's fine...if it helps at all, you can insult me!" I exclaimed. Perfect! It might get the real Sam a bit back and she can lash out on me!

"Wha-? I-No, no, I don't want to..." Sam said shyly. 'Sam' and 'shyly' do not belong in the same sentence together. Sam was the complete epitome of the opposite of shyness.

"Well, I want you to! Come on, tell me what a jerk I am for all those things I did to you, tell me I'm a complete nobody, tell me I'm a bully, come on!" I encouraged her, but she seemed to reject the idea even more.

"No, I really don't..." she muttered.

"I'm not gonna do anything to you, if anything, I'm gonna take it like a man and suck up all those insults, come on, Puckett, diss me!" I said with a laugh.

"Freddie..." she pleaded.

Soon we got into one of those rants where we said everything at the same time...

"If you don't do it, I'm gonna make you do it anyway, so you might as well-_No, I really don't want to_-do it because then you'll feel ten times better-_No, I'll feel awful about-_And then you wouldn't have to be so afraid of me because you'll see-_I really don't see the point of_-Scientists say that the victims should always write on a peace of paper-_What do they have to do with thi-_A list of things that they want to tell their bullies, and then when they tell them, they feel better, it's scientifically proven-_But I don't-_And research shows that 80% of bullied kids grow up to be insecure and lonely and I don't think you want tha-**_OKAY FINE! I'LL INSULT YOU, JUST STOP WITH THE SCIENCE STUFF, FREDDORK!_**"

"..."

I paused, my jaw dropped in shock, but at the same time, a smile tugged on my face. She just...sounded so much like the Real Sam that I was actually happy and excited about it. Sam immediately put her hands on her mouth, "I'm-I'm sorry, I-"

"You called me Freddork..." I smiled. Weird. I said it in an endearing way.

"And I'm sorry about it, you're not a-" "No, this is good!" I interrupted her. Sam seemed puzzldd by this, but I explained it to her, "See, now don't you feel a bit better?"

"...A little." she mumbled, not looking me in the eye.

"Okay, so from here on out, give me more suffixes like that." I told her.

"But-"

"Okay, Sam, not to be mean, but I'm not asking you, I'm telling you, from now on, you insult me as much as you can." I grinned. She mimicked the gesture, "That's an ugly shirt, Fredduchini." she joked as she reached for her smoothie. I eyed my shirt, which was an orange and white striped shirt. I rolled my eyes, then remembered the real Sam hated both stripes and the color orange.

"Thanks." I said sarcastically, earning a chuckle from her. It's weird. I see Sam sad once for a whole day and her laugh suddenly sounds musical to my ears. "You should laugh more..." I blurted out in a whispered voice.

Whoa, where did that come from?

For a split second, she turned into a shade of pink, "H-Huh?" she asked, but this time her stutter wasn't out of fear, but out of genuine surprise.

"I, uh, mean, uh...N-Nothing." I lied. Apparently, in this world, I'm not that good of a liar, either, because I found Sam raising her eyebrows, questioning me. She took a look outside, and bit her lip, "It's getting late, I should..." she began.

"Yeah, you should." I exclaimed, not because I didn't want to spend time with her, but because I needed something to dispel the awkward situation that just presented itself.

"Oh...um, okay." she said, a bit hurt in her voice that she tried to hide as she walked away. I turned my head around called her, "Hey, Sam!" she turned her head to me just as she reached the doorknob, "See you tomorrow?" I said, offering a smile for the way I must have sounded a second ago. She gave a warm smile back. But it was a smile I haven't seen on the real Sam either. Coyly, her eyes were clearly staring at her feet, which were swaying around playfully, but her smile, half a grin and half a smile, could have lit up the whole place, and I'm not just saying that.

"See you tomorrow." she agreed, mentally forgiving me for my little mistake a while ago. As I watched her leave, I didn't even notice I had a smile on my face.

Was it because this Sam was feeling more and more like home? Well, yeah, that had a lot to do with it.

But a lot more to do with it was her furtive smile before she left...

And then I realized...I don't think I ever thought so highly of Carly's smile as I just did for Sam's smile.

* * *

Sam Puckett left the Groovy Smoothie that day, with a big smile on her face. So much so, she was showing her actual teeth. She was still smiling ten minutes after leaving. And she also noticed something else. She was walking down a busy road, with lots of people returning from their jobs, and she didn't feel the cold shoulders of everyone or bumping into everything. For once, she felt like a normal girl travelling through the streets of Seattle. For once, there was no depressing, slightly ironic rain to finish off another miserable day at school, instead, the sun was shining and there was nothing but blue skies. For once, she didn't hear a sad melody playing in her mind to highten the sadness of the cruelty of her peers. Instead she heard a melody she's never heard. It was a playful, happy melody...And the melody in her head was singing in a childish, playful 'la la la'. Seriously, she might as well have been skipping down the road on a plaid dress and a wicker basket with birds flying around her.

'...Ew.' Sam thought. That scenario was seriously creepy. But you understand the point, she was just happy. Was this her first ever day that she felt alright at the end of the day? Or did she have so many days like this and she never noticed? Nah, she would have noticed something like this.

Also, that feeling in her stomach to boot...it felt, weird, scary but...amazing. Was Freddie the cause of it all?

'Maybe...' she thought softly to herself. It's weird. Her mind ordered, screamed, begged, pleaded her not to trust him. But her heart told her to just go with it. Sam Puckett rarely trusted her heart, both of them did. The difference was the Real Sam went with her gut, her soul, not her heart or her mind. But this Sam has been tortured so long, she's been following her mind all this time. In fact, this was the first time she followed her heart. And when she did...Man, the effects it gave. It's crazy to think Freddie Benson was the cause of it all.

And the amazing, happy feeling lasted a long time...until she got home.

"Mom? I'm home!" Sam said cheerfully, running to the living room.

Instead of finding her mother...she found HER. Sitting on the couch, her arm stretching out as her fingers tapped the cushions, showing she's been waiting for a while. The look in her eyes chilled Sam to the bone. The worst is Marissa Taylor never stopped looking into her eerie eyes,

"M-Mrs Taylor..." she stuttered.

The happy feeling disappeared. She suddenly remembered she wasn't suppose to feel good. Not in this world. Heck, she was even supposed to feel anything but pain.

"What do you think you're doing?" Marissa demanded.

"I-I was just, he-he...I tried to avoid him, Mrs Taylor, I really did, but he was so persistant, and he was so-" "So what? Kind, caring, _loving_?" Marissa spat. She stood in front of Sam, towering above her, "Child, what did I tell you? You stupid girl, you're going to ruin everything!"

"I didn't to, I-" _SLAP_.

Sam was so fragile, she fell to the floor, hand on her cheek, and tears flowing from her eyes. What had happened to that feeling a while ago? 'Please come back...' she pleaded, as naïve as a child praying for Santa Clause.

"This isn't your world anymore, kid. You don't control things. I do." Marissa reminded her, "Silly little girl...you're a puppet, remember? I control the strings here. Only half of you is real. Everyone here is only half-real...unfortunately, your other half is coming out...This simply won't do."

"W-What are you going to do?" Sam asked through her tears. She remembered it all now...she only existed for a purpose. Her full self was snatched away from her...She's not happy. She never was, and never will be. But somehow she fooled herself...into thinking she was.

"You're not real, Samantha Puckett. Not really, anyway. The only reason you exist is to keep my child's world perfect. And it seems like he had perfectly clear feelings of hatred for you before he made his wish. And if someone he hates is happy, well...what does that make his world?" Marissa asked, circling Sam.

"I-Imperfect." Sam whispered.

"Yes, and his world can't be imperfect." These were the last words Samantha Puckett heard, before feeling a small shock to her neck, and falling into darkness.

* * *

**AN: OK WOW...Not exactly what you imagined, huh? So...weird. Oh well, what do you think Freddie did? OH SILLY ME I'M THE AUTHOR OF COURSE I KNOW! XD Just messin' with you guys...Anyway, when I was writing the GENERAL POV, I was listening to two songs: one by Jennette McCurdy and one by Evanescence, and even sneaking in some of the songs' lyrics to the paragraphs. Can you guess what it is?**


	6. Chapter 6: The Threats

**_iAm Not Freddie Taylor_  
**

**AN: YES! I am alive, no worries :) I'd appriciate it if some reviewers would stop feeling the need to pressure me. I'm trying to study to get high grades for this international school I've been wanting to go since practically forever. This year is very important to me, so I'd appriciate it if some reviewers didn't leave angry, hate-filled messages just because I don't update as frequently. I WILL finish all of my stories, but it WILL take some time. Just don't give up, I'm working it out, please don't give in, I won't let you down...thumbs up to whoever can find that song :D**

-

* * *

The next day came by, and I woke up with a smile on my face. I remembered what happened yesterday. At least, I think what happened yesterday. Maybe it really was a dream? With in mind, I ran into the kitchen, and saw my mom happily cooking pancakes. And they weren't wheatgrass pancakes. She was humming a Lady Gaga song and wearing jeans and a T-shirt that looked like one of those shirts from that Always 16 store. So this was definitely the Other Mother. And yesterday did happen. Before my mom could notice I was up, I quickly went back into my room and let myself fall on the bed.

I remember I had a really good dream last night. Well, I did fall asleep dreaming about...

Wait, Sam's smile?

I paused, and a weird look came on my face. Why would I dream about her smile and not Carly's? Unless, all of a sudden, I actually like her more than a...No, that's not it, isn't it? I'm just...happy to see her smile, knowing how she's been apparently miserable, and the misery in her face yesterday showed that she hasn't smiled in a long time, and I'm the reason she did yesterday.

But now, Sam was happy. That's all I needed for now. And I guess the people in school will stop bullying her as soon as they see me by her side. And, gradually, I can try and get rid of Jonah, Pete and Missy. I can try to change Gibby and Carly. Then Sam could hang out with us. And, I don't know, maybe we can re-start iCarly. Everything will be back to normal. So, I was going to try and do this, but in the meantime, I still needed answers. Of how I got here, if it was some kind of alternate reality or something.

After I got dressed, I went to the kitchen and started eating those pancakes. But my mom looked at me carefully, as if she was observing me, "So, right after you came home, you dozed off immediately. We didn't get a chance to talk." she told me.

"Well...we have time now." I said, a little suspicious of how weary she was being.

"Like...what happened in school? I heard some pretty dramatic stuff happened. When Carly came home, I heard her crying." she said.

"She was?" I exclaimed, putting my fork down, "I never wanted her to cry! I didn't even think she'd be that upset about it, I just..."

"About what?" she asked. But there was something weird in the tone of her voice. It's as if she already knew what had happened, but she was waiting for me to say it out loud.

"Well, um, yesterday...I sorta saved and defended Sam." I explained.

Then she did this weird thing. Her eyes widened, and my mom's eyes were pretty big so her eyes could get pretty scary when she was in shock, and stopped what she was doing, which was pouring herself some juice. I pretended not to notice and kept eating, though. But something about this Other Mother's eyes was...I don't know, creepier. I think it's just now that I noticed that in this world, my mom's eyes weren't brown like it was. It was...black, pitch black. But at the same time, I could have sworn I saw a bit of crimson reflecting her eyes.

"Samantha Puckett?" she asked, and I had a feeling I was in trouble, "But...I thought you hated her."

"I never said that," I said, "and if I did, everyone knows I wasn't serious. I could never hate her."

"Yes, you do." she said sternly, like she was trying to say it to make me obey her. But it didn't work. "No, I don't...Why would you think that?"

Stupid question. Even people in the real world wondered if Sam and I really hated each other. But if you knew us long enough, you'd know we could never truly hate each other. The proof was even on iCarly, and even my real mother knew, to some extent, that I never really hated Sam.

She didn't answer. Instead she kept on pouring juice and began slicing her pancakes, not looking at me in the eye. I thought we had dropped the subject, until I heard her mutter under her breath, probably thinking that I wouldn't hear, "That's certainly how you felt at the time..."

"At what time?" I asked, visibly confused

"Huh?" she pretended to be ignorant on the subject, and shrugged as she kept on eating her pancakes. "I think you should talk to Carly."

I was taken aback, "Huh? But, Mom, what about Sa-" "Never mind about Pucke-I mean, Sam. Friend or foe, whatever Sam is to you, Carly should be more important to you. After all, she is your girlfriend, isn't she?" she reminded me.

I bit my lip from splurting out something I never thought I'd say, 'But she's not more important to me.' Even though I didn't say it out loud, I was thinking it, and it was just as weird as the realization from yesterday that I never thought much about Carly's smile as much as I did with Sam's. But I couldn't let her know what I was thinking. And technically, I did make her cry. It was the right thing to do. So I nodded in agreement, and waved my mom goodbye before leaving the room.

I stood in front of the Shay's apartment, hands trembling. I didn't know how this Carly would react after yesterday, when I basically ditched her and ran after Sam. I wasn't mad at her, I get that she and Sam weren't friends in this reality, but it was just a bit too hard to believe. They were the closest friends I've ever seen, and when I was added to their 'circle', I felt like I was intruding a bit, at first, but they made me feel welcome and never made me feel like a third wheel. Well, Carly did. At first, Sam seem to poke fun at me mercilessly. Funny how things turn out. Before I didn't like Sam and adored Carly, now, in the real world, I was probably closer to Sam than I was with Carly. I knocked the door, and I saw the unexpected. I saw Spencer Shay. But not in the way I remember him.

I guess I could just full-out explain what shocked me the most, but at this point, it was best to take baby steps. First, let's start with his clothes. Instead of the teenager-ish style Spencer once had, he was wearing a weird sweater, the kind you would see on old people. Weird colored brown-yellowish, orange, red-ish stripes. The kind of sweater Sam herself would call 'a Nub's official uniform'. To make it worst, he tucked in sweater inside his brown slacks. Yes, slacks. And he had a big, bulky black belt that reminded me of Santa's belt. And he had leather shoes. Unless he was wearing a suit to go along with it, Spencer would never wear leather shoes. His hair was weird. It looked like he put an entire bottle of hairspray or something, because his hair was as spiky and messy as a porcupine. But his change of style isn't the thing that shocked me the most.

It was the bruises on his face. His bruises reminded me of the ones Sam received from the other kids yesterday. A purple bruise forming on the corner of his eye. A scar on his lips that's barely begun to heal. And the rest of his face looked like it was _just_ recovering from former bruises. And I have a hunch the large sweater and slacks were hiding more.

"S-Spencer?" I stuttered.

"Oh...hey, Freddie. Carly will be here in a second." Spencer reassured me. The whole time, he clutched to the door as if it were some kind of shield, and he nailed his eyes to the ground, like there was some kind of law that forbade him to look directly at me.

"Spencer...what happened to you?" I asked.

But Spencer didn't answer. Instead, he finally looked at me. His eyes revealed pain and struggle, but of what, exactly? He finally realized he looked a second too long, and tried changing the subject, "Ca-Carly! Freddie's here!" he stuttered.

"Coming!" I heard Carly say from upstairs, but I ignored her and kept trying to get Spencer to admit what he did, "Spencer, tell me why are you like...well, like that?" I exclaimed, waving my hands up and down in front of him to emphasize. But Spencer shook his head fearfully, "I can't talk to you...Sam did, and look what happened to her.."

"Sam? What happened to Sam?" I asked quickly. I was jumping from one topic to another, I realize that, but so much was happening and way too fast. I didn't understand anything, just like yesterday. But somehow, it was as if every 'shock news' I saw got creepier and creepier every day.

"I could get in serious trouble just for answering you!" Spencer warned me in a hush tone, still clutching the door as if it was on life support. I heard Carly's footsteps as she came downstairs, but I wasn't thinking quickly, but inside I was panicking, and let's face it, I never did do well under pressure. "Spencer, please, I'm begging you, if you can't now, answer my questions when I come home from school."

Spencer protested, about to say something, but shut his mouth when he saw the desperation in my eyes. For two seconds, it was quiet, just us staring at each other intensely, waiting for the other to react or answer. Finally, he gave in. He groaned in fraustration as he slid his hand up through his thick, wicker-like hair and leaned in and whispered, "I can't answer your questions. Talk to 'The Cat'." he said, saying the words 'the cat' as if it were some kind of god or something.

"The Cat'?" I repeated. Was this some kind of joke?

"The one with three legs. Look, I know it sounds crazy but just trust me and find him. Mrs Taylor can't control him, because he's not human. Find him, and when you do, please...save us." he begged me. At first, I thought this was some kind of joke. But the look in Spencer's eyes told me otherwise. He actually looked as desperate as me, I imagined. And I've seen Spencer desperate before. But not in this way. His eyes watered up, he wanted to cry so badly but he winced at the same time. I'm guessing it's because if he did cry, the tears would hurt his bruises even more. He gulped, he was obviously afraid of me. Or of what he was saying. Even his movements showed his fear, cowering up as if he wanted to curl into a ball and hide from everyone. Just like Sam, I remembered. And the same look in their eyes that scared me: they looked at me as if I was their only ray of hope, and it was a matter of life and death.

"I-" I was about to say I didn't believe him. This whole three-legged cat business was starting to sound way too cartoon-ish. Not to say three-legged cats don't exist, but how could they answer my questions? Could they talk, too? I didn't waste any time to find out, I just needed to know a couple of last things. "Where can I find him? And who exactly is 'us'?" I asked.

"'Us' is-" "Hey, Freddie!" Carly showed up, perky and happy as if she never cried the day before and quickly kissed my lips, completely ignoring Spencer. "You ready to go?"

"Uh...aren't you mad at me?" I asked.

"No...why would I be, silly?" she laughed, playfully pushing my shoulder. As always, I was confused.

"Maybe because yesterday my mom said she heard you cry?" I answered, but in a questioning tone.

Carly shrugged, "Probably imagining things."

"What about Sam?" I asked.

That's when Carly's eyes changed aswell. You'd never know it with a girl as sweet as Carly was, but she was pretty scary when she was angry. Her eyes would fix on you, and her normally bright eyes would suddenly become dark and sinister, as if she was plotting something against you. I know how it sounds. Carly? Plotting? Dark and sinister? Well, in the real world, I knew Carly could hold a grudge, but wasn't exactly the evil dark and sinister type.

But in this world, she did. "What about her?"

"Well, I'm not gonna stop being her friend just because you don't like her...and if you're my girlfriend and you really did, um, love me, then you would at least be nice to her." I tried manipulating her, in a way. It felt uncomfortable to do it. Also, saying that she loved me was still weird.

Carly sighed in annoyance, "Fine. I'll try to be nice to the girl...or boy. Whatever she is." she wrinkled her nose in disgust. I could tell she wasn't completely on board with the idea, but it was start, so I nodded.

"Shouldn't we get going?" she suggested, "Wouldn't want to ruin our perfect attendance record, now, would we?"

"Good idea," I agreed with her, for once, and turned to Spencer, "Bye, Spence."

Spencer seemed taken aback when I said that. I paused and realized my mistake. Freddie Benson might be Spencer's friend, but how do I know how Freddie Taylor is? Wait, aren't I Freddie Taylor? I shook my heads, ridding myself of the thoughts. I thought I had solved the Sam problem and could focus on finding out where I am or how is this possible, but it looks like there's another problem, so figuring out where I am or even who I am would have to wait. Right now, there are problems more serious than that. Because when I paused, I noticed Carly did, too. And Spencer's eyes widened.

"Yeah...bye, 'Spence'." Carly said slowly, giving him the same scary look she gave me a second ago. I went ahead and pushed the elevator door. I figured I would step by later when Carly wasn't around so Spencer could tell me where this 'Three-Legged Cat' is. But I didn't know at the time that this would be the last time I would see Spencer. But I should have guessed. When Carly didn't think I was listening, I heard her say:

"Take care of yourself, Spencer, because I certainly hope nothing _bad_ happens to you..."

And it sounded more like a threat than something endearing.

-

Later on, when we walked to school, Carly was talking, but my mind was on something else completely. I kept thinking about what happened to Sam and Spencer, and what exactly they did to deserve the treatment they got. I didn't know much about Spencer yet, but I'm willing to bet it was just as bad as Sam. And...it was weird, and scary. Even at this moment, Carly was talking about something that made her so happy that she kissed my cheek (though if you asked me what it was, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to answer).

But that's what so weird. I used to think Carly was the center of my life. I was positive we'd end up going out, one time or another. 'Cause that's how the stories go, right? Nerdy best friend is always just that: a nerdy best friend. But as time flies, the nerdy best friend becomes more. And I remember going to sleep at night with that in mind, telling myself that my time will come, and when it does, it would be amazing. Everything I ever dreamt, imgined and hoped for. Most of all, it would all be completely worth the years I spent waiting. But now it's different. Now that I'm actually with her, instead of feeling the relief and happiness I thought I would feel, it felt empty. It felt as if dating her was an actual chore, yes, a chore. Like I was only doing it because I was supposed to. And I tried to be happy, I really did. Sam once told me in order to manipulate people, a great technique is to trick them into believing that what you believe is what they believe. Maybe I tried doing that. Maybe I tried to trick myself by telling myself I was in love with her, but all it's created was some kind of feeling filled with fake love and false hope. Maybe I was so excited there was a girl who was perfect in my eyes that talked to me without disgust that I created a false feeling.

Or...maybe those feelings were once true. But things change.

"I mean, we should probably pick out our outfits. I don't mean to be pushy," she said, although she was being pushy, but I wasn't gonna tell her that, "But I want prom night to be magical. Me going downstairs, you staring at me, we go to prom, everybody stares at us and wishes they could be us, we win prom king and queen...I want it to be perfect, so our outfits should probably match. I already picked out my outfit, it's all black, sleeveless and there's _very _little material." she grinned the last part into my ear.

Again contrasting to the original Carly. Carly would never wear black to prom. Carly always said black was either for hardcore parties (which she hardly went to) or elegant soirées. If she wore black, she would have worn another color with it, like blue or something brighter. She would have worn something bright and colorful to her prom, and she would never tell anyone what she was wearing. At least not to her own boyfriend. Wasn't the whole point of it was for the boyfriend to be surprised at his girl's dress? Lastly, _very little material_? Carly wasn't trashy in any way and would never wear something as scandalous as this Carly said she was going to.

"Meaning you have to wear, like, a white shirt inside with a tie and a black tux. Put on fancy shoes. No ruffles. Oh, and gel your hair like you did last year when you went to the Halloween party as Edward Cullen. You'll look so handsome." she gushed, clinging to my arm.

A white shirt inside with a tie and a black tux? Isn't that what _every _guy wears to prom? Fancy shoes? What difference do my shoes make? Couldn't I just wear a tux jacket and jeans and Converse like I planned?

"Sure." I muttered absent-mindly.

"Oh!" she said suddenly, "Most importantly, get me an orchid corsage. I have to have an orchid corsage, it's the most expensive one. All the girls will be so jealous!"

Again, Real Life Carly couldn't care less if she got a corsage made out of park flowers. Just the _idea_ of a guy giving her flowers was enough to make Carly swoon and daydream all day. "Okay." I replied, wondering if she noticed how quiet I've been.

"Jonah said you guys rented a tux last Saturday while me and the girls were out shopping, which is perfect, since he said it was black. Oh, I can't wait until prom night, it's going to be amazing!" she squealed in excitement as we entered the school. "Oh, there's Missy!" Carly said, interrupting my thoughts, "So, I'll see you at lunch?"

"Uh...sure." I replied, obviously distracted. My brain barely even acknowledged the goodbye kiss Carly gave me before she left. As soon as Carly finally let me go (the fact that I'm relieved about Carly letting me go is weird enough), I was on my way to look for Sam.

"Hey, Freddie!"

"Hi, Freddie!"

"How's it goin', Taylor?"

Oddly enough, no one in school seemed to remember yesterday's events. I imagine it should have been hard to remember a 'cool guy' sticking up for the school 'loser' and hurting his 'best friend' over it. Yet no one cared. Or even noticed. They all said hi to me like nothing happened at all. I tried to ignore all of this, but it was hard not to. Finally, I found Sam behind a row of lockers.

"Sam!" I called out to her.

I saw her entire body freeze in fear. She bit her lip, afraid to look at me. It was hard to tell, really, since I was still walking towards her. I wondered what had happened. Did somebody hurt her again? Couldn't be! If I really am the 'popular guy' of the school, no one would dare mess with the popular guy's friends, much less when he threatens to hurt anyone that does. I was finally in front of her, well, to her side, since she was facing her locker and didn't move an inch, but across her left eye, a new scar was formed. I took a step back. The scar was dangerously deep. It stated on the left side of the upper eye and continued to the right side of the lower eye. I saw her slightly blink her eyes, and concluded that she must have closed her eyes when the damage was done, because the scar continued with her eyelids.

And this shouldn't have shocked me. I thought that after yesterday, seeing Sam Puckett so hurt, bruised, weak, shattered, that I would never be shocked again. But I was. Why? Because the scar was obviously new, and it meant that people are still messing with her.

"S-Sam...who-?" Before I could answer, she quickly slammed her locker door and walked away, as fast as she could. She was practically running, and she didn't even look at me once. I followed her, and I could already feel the stares of other people as I ran after her. Yes, ran. For a girl who was only fast-walking, I had to run to catch up to her. But then again, as I ran, other people's looks became a distant blur and only she was clear. I focused on her, and only her, hoping she would stop at some point.

"Sam, stop!" I yelled after her. I told myself that was useless, but she surprisingly turned around, her hair whipping my chin as I stopped in front of her. "You did this to me!" she yelled accusingly at me the second she turned around, with tears beginning to form in her eyes.

Luckily, we were in a now-deserted hallway so we were safe from the student body's gossip and catty remarks, but I was still confused and worried altogether. "What are you talking about?"

"You spend six years of your life bullying _and _hurting me and then you show up one day and suddenly become all nice and for once, I thought that things would just magically change but you just made things ten times worst! Damn it, Benson, why won't you just leave me alone?" she asked. For the two-thirds of her speech, she sounded angry. But in the end, she sounded sad, and it almost sounded like she was begging me to leave her alone.

And I never saw so much emotions on Sam that were pitted against me, that made her feel so awful. Her words were ringing in mt head repeatedly. I didn't even noticed my own tears that I refused to shed, "Sam, it was not like that." I told her, grasping her shoulders and trying to talk as calmly as possible, "That wasn't me! I never wanted to hurt you! I never wanted anyone to hurt you-" "Lie! That's a lie! Everyone in this world wants to hurt me!" she accused as she pushed my hands away from her shoulders, "And it's all for you!"

"That isn't true, I don't want to hurt you! Six years ago, I may have, but not anymore! And it's 'all for me'? That doesn't even begin to make sense! And why are you so angry with...Wait a second." I stopped. Her words from earlier repeated themselves in my head but only one thing kept on repeating louder than the others, "Did you just call me 'Benson'?"


	7. Chapter 7: The Kiss

**_iAm Not Freddie Taylor_  
**

**AN: so, who saw iStill Psycho? Okay, first off, HILARIOUS EPISODE. Second, I won't lie, I literally got freaked out with the 'forever...and ever...and ever...' it really did seem like something out of a horror movie, but the fact that it came from a KIDS COMEDY SHOW makes even WAYYYY creepier...*shudders* But be honest with me, Seddiers...who else was angry and sad and happy at Seddie?**  
**'Be careful, Sam, those things are sharp!'**  
**Seriously, ONE SENTENCE WAS ENOUGH TO KEEP ME FANGIRLING. AND GOOD GOD, WHY DIDN'T SAM AT LEAST WEAR ANGRY FACE WHEN DIRSHLITT WAS MACKIN' ON HER MAN?...EX? I WAS ANGRY! :O**  
**Anyways, all I kept thinking about was...how AMAZING it would be if Seddie were together and Nora tries to kiss Freddie again xP Wasted opportunity, man. Wasted. Fur-eakin'. Opportunity.**  
**One thing I wanna see before iCarly ends? JEALOUS SAM AND FREDDIE, EACH. JUST ONCE, DAN, DO THAT AND I WILL DIE A HAPPY GIRL.**

* * *

_Chapter 7: The Kiss_

Sam was speechless, obviously. She put her hands on her mouth with a terrified expression. The tears she fought so hard not to shed were now streaming down her cheeks. She was shaking, in terrible fear, and she looked as if she was going to be sick as she put one of her hands on her stomach, "I-I..."

"Sam, did you or did you not just call me 'Benson'?" I interrogated her. Even the Real Sam couldn't escape from this one.

"No. You didn't hear me right." she said, looking for any excuse that could get her out of this. But it can't. The mere fact that she called me 'Benson' showed she knows that I'm not really Freddie Taylor, and it could give me some answers to the very important questions I've been asking since I came to this alternate universe. She could help me help her, help me, help everybody. But now, she looked even more frightened than she ever was.

"Sam, I heard you say-" "Shh! Not here!" she said, clamping her hands on my mouth. Then she proceeded to looking around to check if the coast was clear, "Stop, just stop!"

I pushed her hands away from my mouth, beginning to get fraustrated. She must have known the entire time I wasn't me and she must have known that I was Freddie Benson all along and she must have all the answers I've been looking for and she wanted _me_to stop? "Sam, I'm not gonna drop this! Why'd you call me that?"

"Anyone could hear us..." she tried telling me calmly. She was scared, I knew that, because as she said this, instead of looking at me in the eye, she looked everywhere else for an answer. "Freddie, you know I'd tell you if I could, but I can't..." she said, her voice breaking.

"It's a simple question, Puckett, why'd you call me 'Benson'?" I asked again.

"Freddie, if you care for me _at all_, you won't talk about this to me!" Sam pleaded in a whispered voice. I've seen Sam at her worst in this reality, and right now, with her big blue teary eyes looking straight at me, I should listened to her and stopped, but I didn't. I was just so fraustrated about everything that was happening that I wasn't thinking straight.

"Who am I supposed to talk to about it, huh, Sam? Who?" I snapped at her.

"_You said you'd never do anything to hurt me_!" she yelled back, and at that point, I stopped. This was the first time this new Sam was truly angry with me, that I knew I had to stop. Sam, whether it was Real Sam or Samantha, would never do anything that would really, truly hurt me, and I'm guessing she wasn't saying why for a good reason. "And right now, you're not only hurting me, you're setting everything up to get me killed!"

"Who would kill you?" I whispered, finally keeping my voice down as I put my hands on her shoulders, trying to relax her. As she sobbed quietly, she looked at the floor, at her feet, more accurately. Then she looked left, right and behind her. Finally, she turned her head to me, and her eyes changed. She didn't look sad or scared anymore. But...daring.

Like _Sam_Puckett.

"Come on." she commanded me as she took my hand and dragged me outside school through an exit. I would have been surprised that we were skipping, but I figured in this world, it didn't matter. We went through the exit with the school's parking lot, for the teachers or for the seniors who have repeated at least sixty times, I'm guessing. You could easily recognize the difference from a student's car to a teacher's. The teachers' cars were subtle, classy, and always looked like they were just washed. But the students' were flashy, obnoxious sports car vehicles that they didn't deserve with thousands of paint jobs marked all over it and little traces of car accidents from the past, such as bumps and scratches. The one I recognized was Ms Briggs'. A small little blue Prius. There were so many Priuses in Seattle, especially the small blue ones, that I would have thought it would be impossible to recognized yours if not for the bumpers.

But as I noticed, Sam was dragging me there, but then I noticed her grip was tighter on mine. _Achingly_tight. Like the real one. And the bravery, determination, courage in her eyes...I missed that, so, so much. It's like you could hurl a cop in front of her and she would have just smacked him out of the way, without blinking or stopping, and kept on walking until she reaches where she wanted to be. The sadness I saw earlier was replaced with this raw, fierce and fearless attitude.

And it was ironic I recognized Ms Briggs' car, because that's exactly where she lead me. "What are we doing?" I asked once she finally let go of my hand.

She bent down and put her hand under the tire, and came out with a key. I was confused, "How...where-?"

"Briggs always leaves a spare key on top of her tire." Sam explained as she unlocked the car, "Get in." she ordered, "We don't have much time."

I didn't know what was going on at first. Was it the shock that Sam called me 'Benson' or the fact that Sam was actually acting _like_Sam? I'm sure it was both, but she now had the commanding tone Sam usually possessed at times when she knew exactly what she was doing (which was often when it came to crimes or how to break in or a plan/prank), so I did what she said. Without a spare thought, I hurled myself into the car, but as soon as I did, I asked questions.

"What's going on? How do you know all this? Where are we going? Why are you acting like this?" I asked continuously. I realize I've been bombarding her with questions, but she wasn't exactly doing much to answer them.

"I meant what I said, Freddie, I honestly can't tell you." Sam admitted as she drove out of school, "I can't tell you anything but I don't want you to stay here any longer than you have to. She'll get bored of you, she always does."

"'She'? Who's 'she'?" I demanded.

"Ugh!" Sam groaned in fraustration, "I told you, I can't tell you! All I can say is you, me, Spencer, Carly, everyone, isn't where we're all supposed to be! The longer it all goes on, the more we'll...we'll..."

"We'll what?" I asked again. The whole thing was so fraustrating for both me and Sam. She sighed, and I could see she was feeling the same way I was, "I know you want answers, and I'm so close to giving them to you but if I do..." she began to say, then her voice trailed off, and I'm kinda glad she did. I didn't want to hear the rest. "All I can tell you is that I'm not exactly Sam. I mean, in some way I am, but at the same time, I'm not...Look, I can't explain this to you, but I can take you to someone who can."

"Well, can you give me a clue, at least?" I begged. Anything to make anything clearer.

"Ugh, fine!" she grunted, obviously annoyed by me, "Before you entered...this world, what's your last memory?"

I bit my lip, 'cause I was not expecting that one. I never even thought about what had happened before, but I started to remember. I had finally set my plan in motion, the plan I've been planning for months, for Carly to see that I wasn't playing around with my feelings and go out with me. But she rejected me. I think she knew I was serious about my feelings, and she really didn't mean to, but she just didn't love me back. I was hurt and on the way, I bumped into Sam. I snapped at her, and didn't realize she was actually trying to be helpful. I actually felt bad for a while, but my thoughts were clouded. I found a reason to snap at everything and nothing, and I found myself in the fire escape.

And then...I saw that..weird, chalk thingy and...

Oh, shizz...

"There was a spyglass...with two chalks inside, one white and one black, and there was someone who drew a door behind me. And on the spyglass, it was written...'FT'...oh, my God, 'FT' stands for Freddie Taylor!" I exclaimed, mentally slapping myself. How did I not know this before?

"Wow, good job, Sherlock. Are you gonna tell us next that two plus two equals four?" Sam said, sarcastically, I might add. I was a little surprised. I was so into helping THIS Sam that I never even bothered to think...how did Sam Puckett go from fearless to helpless?

"Anyway, Freddie Taylor was a bad kid. Really janked up. Didn't know what the hell he was doing. Spoiled and did everything he could to hurt people." Sam explained. And to prove her point, she turned to me during a stoplight, biting her lip, knowing she's going to regret whatever she was going to do next. "You wanna know what you...Freddie Taylor did to me that was so bad?" she asked. I didn't say yes or no. I wanted to know what it was, but at the same time, I didn't. I didn't want to know what Freddie Taylor could have done to Sam to hurt her so much. But she showed me anyway. She lifted her shirt and starting from her left waist, across her stomach and ending underneath her chest, was a huge scar.

I know, a scar, no big deal right? Wrong. The scar was obviously deep, and wide. Almost two inches wide, and more than one inch deep. There were stitches done, but you could still see the damage. Her skin never seemed to heal, as the center of the scar seemed to still bleed, and around the scar, her skin was pink.

And I held my breath. I don't know what I was feeling at the time. Guilt, regret, sadness, maybe...but I wanted revenge the most. For Freddie Taylor to suffer. Sam would never deserve this. Or anything like it...ever...

"He...why? How?" I managed to blurt out, still staring at her scar.

"For the fun of it, I guess..." Sam answered sadly as she pulled her shirt back down, then continued driving, "Freddie Taylor and...his friends found me walking home. And they just happened to have came from a restaurant where Freddie apparently stole a butcher's knife. They cornered me into an alley and...they wanted to see how deep they could press the blade on me. And they did...well, Freddie did. Carly and Gibby and Jonah and everybody else just stared and laughed. But...Freddie went too far, and I lost way too much blood. When they realized that I fainted, they all left. And someone found me and I woke up in the hospital. But when I came back to school...he warned me if I ever said anything to anyone that he'd finish the job."

At the end of Sam's story, I didn't react at all. How do you react when someone tells you your...'alter ego' did something like that to someone you cared about so much? You don't. I just sat there, and without even realizing it, my hands wandered onto Sam's. I didn't know why I did it. But Sam gave me a squeeze, and pulled my hand, begging me to look at her.

"...When you came in...and you started being friendly, I thought it was a trick. But then I met someone...the Cat..." and there goes that cat again, "He told me the Truth. Why everything's the way it is. Everything's a big, gigantic set-up. Not just for you, but for other people. She tricked them into thinking that their world is perfect. So that they'll love it. But the problem is...is that she gets bored. Very fast and easily. And what she does to those kids...she wipes them from their existence." Sam explained, again at stoplight and looking at me, but I couldn't anymore. I know I've been searching for answers...but when you find an answer that's so horrible, it's like you refuse to believe it.

"At first, I thought, 'great, no more Freddie'. But then...then you saved me. You cared about me. You made me feel happiness for the first time ever. And...then I didn't want you to suffer the same fate. That's why I'm helping you now...and risking everything for you." she told me. And finally, I looked up and looked into her eyes. She was sincere, honest and kind...the only time I've ever seen that on Sam was during our...first kiss.

"But why? Why would you risk everything for someone who's been horrible to you?" I asked.

But Sam shrugged, "Something tells me, you would do the same thing for me, Fredweirdo." she said with a smile.

And there was one more question I had to ask, "Wait, I'm so confused...are you Sam Puckett, iCarly's co-host, the girl I've loved and hated since the sixth grade, the girl who eats more meat than anyone, the girl knocks out truck drivers with milk cartons, the girl I...kissed for the very first time, or aren't you?"

Sam looked up and down, debating on what she should say. She sighed heavily, closing her eyes. Her shoulders lowered and she turned back to me, but she let go of my hand, looking me seriously in the eyes, "Yes, I am."

My eyes widened, "Well, then, how-?"

It all happened so fast in my eyes. Before I could finish my sentence, someone smashed the window in front of us, someone dressed in all black. Sam yelled, jumping on me, and I held her close, shocked and frightened, but as more glass broke from windows around us, I practically covered her with my entire body, making sure nothing hit her. There was so much ruckus. Everything was so loud, and the whole thing triggered the car's alarm. Glass shattering, something beating up the car that we felt like the entire thing was shaking up and down, but all I did was hold Sam even tighter. I could feel her bury her face on my neck, completely scared and freaked out. And I wanted to get out and hurt whoever was doing this, but I didn't want to leave Sam alone.

But after a while, it stopped.

I slowly raised my head to check if the coast was clear, and Sam did the same. No one was there. The car was all janked up and the windows were all broken, and pieces of glass were everywhere, but no one seemed to be there. No one...in the streets or on the driveway.

Breathing heavily, I put my hands on Sam's face and tilted her head towards me, "You okay?" I asked. She nodded, "Yeah...a little creeped out, but I'm fine." she said, trying to look tough, but she was still shaking.

So was I, though. But the fear was quickly replaced by something else. As soon as I noticed just how close we were. We were both scared, shaking and panting, but our faces were an inch away from each other, and my hands were on her face while she had her hands wrapped around my neck. I could feel her warm breath tickling my skin...or rather, my lips. I rested my forehead on hers, catching my breath. The shaking died, and I could feel my heart race. Was it supposed to be like this? I wasn't sure, and I wasn't sure what she was thinking either. Whether she was uncomfortable or fine. But as I raised my head a little, I saw her, looking at me.

And she wasn't scared anymore. At least, not of what had just happened. A completely different type of fear was set in her eyes, and it ressembled mine. I came a little closer, wondering if I shouldn't have done it just because I wanted to. But then again, Sam didn't budge. She didn't seem frozen in fear, but her fingers pulled me from the back of my neck. So I closed my eyes, leaning in.

But she leaned in faster, and we were finally kissing. And it wasn't like our first kiss. It had its similarities, I guess. But this was more passionate, more daring, and just...better than any kiss I ever got. My hands travalled down to her waist while her stayed on my neck, but we were both pushing ourselves closer to the other. And we both acted like we were kissing-deprived for years, and releasing every bit of it out. She pushed herself onto my lap, still kissing me, and I started to kiss her collarbone, and lead back up into her lips, which I know she enjoyed.

And it could have been magical, amazing, wonderful, the best experience in my life. No, scratch that, it _was_ the best experience of my life.

Until reality...or whatever reality I was in, came back to bite me.

I felt Sam pushed off of me, and as I opened my eyes, I saw many more people dressed in black surrounding the car, and one taking Sam away.

"Hey, let go of her!" I yelled, getting out of the car, but there was so much more of them than I could count. Sam angrily punched the one who was carrying her, making him fall to the ground. But I didn't see him because the Others seemed to trample all over him and he faded. Sam ran to me as fast as she could, and I grabbed one of her hands, but I felt someone grab me, and I saw someone grab her.

"No, let go!" Sam said, kicking one of the Others who held her feet, but just as she was about to punch the one holding her shoulders, one of them came and injected something into her neck.

"Let her go, Sam!" I called to her, kicking the back of me, knowing it would hit whoever was holding me between the legs, he let go, but out of the corner of my eye, I spotted another one running at me in full speed, and quickly injected me with the same thing they gave to Sam.

My vision blurred, and the last thing I saw was Sam, who stood out against the black clothed sea of people around her, around me, around us...

And what I couldn't believe. One of them took off the mask that was hiding their faces. And there was...

Something I couldn't identify...it looked like the face of a person, but it wasn't right. It looked like someone had torn off different faces and stitched them all into one face. It wasn't normal...

"S-Sam...don't...hurt...her..." I said before everything in my system seemed to shut down.


End file.
